


threats & promises

by princesskay



Series: fragile (handle with force) [2]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Punishment, Season/Series 01, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: Bill steps across the threshold, and Holden’s chest thuds as his presence seems to fill up every corner of the room, bringing the walls closing in around them. Quietly, he realizes he’s never wanted anyone quite this much, and perhaps he’s losing his mind talking of punishment and pain. Maybe he was in over his head the second he let Ed Kemper talk him into thinking about anal sex.Holden negotiates for what he wants - but he may not be ready for the result.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Series: fragile (handle with force) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552183
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	threats & promises

The sun has already set by the time Bill and Holden get back from Boston. The BSU building is almost entirely deserted as they head down to the basement to collect their things before heading home for the day. In the silence, their synced footfalls echo down the hollow corridors, the only sound except for the distant rattle and groan of pipes overhead. 

Holden quietly observes Bill as they each go to their desks to deposit the unused files from Miller, and collect keys and coats. 

They have not spoken about what happened between them in that hotel room in Sacramento last week, and Holden doesn’t have the nerve to try to bring it up, although whatever conversation he might have conjured would have been incomplete at best. He’s still trying to process it, every detail, how he feels, the way his expectations had been shattered and built back up again into something new, intimidating, and monumental - but also pleasurable. 

While Holden has not been able to get it out of his mind, Bill is pretending as if nothing happened. His typical gruff attitude might be more pronounced than usual, but he hasn’t spared a single longing look in Holden’s direction. He keeps his eyes and hands to himself, and he’d spent the whole drive to and from Boston quietly smoking and barely talking. If he has any potent feelings about what happened, he isn’t letting any of them slip past his reticent exterior.

Holden glances away as he tucks his notebook with the notes from the meeting with Dr. Carr into his desk drawer. Frustration bubbles at a low boil in his chest, chafing up against the desires that won’t leave him alone. He’s gone home and masturbated almost every single night since California, reliving the moments with his eyes pressed shut and his fingers pumping into himself - an inadequate attempt at replicating just how divine Bill’s touch had felt working him open. It seems impossible that while these needs are eating Holden alive, Bill is entirely unaffected by the rough, satisfying sex they’d shared. 

Bill clears his throat, jarring Holden back to reality. He gathers up his briefcase, and strides past Holden on his way to the door. 

“Goodnight.” He says. 

Holden turns to watch his back retreating. “Bill?”

Bill’s stride cuts to a halt, and he turns around to meet Holden’s tremulous gaze. “Yeah?”

“Why exactly are you so opposed to what Dr. Carr was saying?” Holden asks, “I know you see the value in this research, and I can’t believe that you’re scared of approaching Shephard about it.”

Bill’s brow furrows. In the dim light of the basement, his eyes are that seafoam gray that makes Holden feel like all the strength has been sapped out of his limbs. 

“I just don’t think we’re ready for a study and a book.” Bill says, “This is a brand new idea, Holden We have to take it slow, be smart about it.”

“So, it isn’t because you don’t want to spend another possibly four years on the road with me?” 

Bill holds Holden’s gaze for a moment before scoffing. “No, I’m just trying to be smart about it. Not everything is about you.”

Holden nods, slowly. Bill turns to leave again, and the next remark leaps from Holden’s throat without forethought. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I can’t believe that you haven’t either.”

Bill pauses, his shoulders rising with a slow, deep breath. 

Holden’s pulse spikes as he turns around, and walks back towards him with his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with the humid threat of lightning. 

“You can’t deny that.” Holden whispers as Bill reaches him, a sudden desperation to secure Bill’s confession gripping him in the chest. 

“I told you, it was a one time thing. We both got what we wanted out of it so just leave it at that, okay?”

“What if I want it again?”

Bill’s mouth compresses into a thin line. He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re something else, you know that? You never know when to stop.”

“So I’ve been told.” Holden murmurs. 

“Well, it’s not happening. I’m not going to stand here and try to tell you it didn’t feel good in the moment, physically. But neither of us should feel good about it now. I’m married, you’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Your wife is not interested in having sex with you; and my girlfriend doesn’t have a cock.”

Bill scowls. “That’s obscene.”

Holden purses his lips, and lifts his shoulders ruefully.

“No.” Bill says, firmly. “Just forget about it. And don’t make me repeat this again. You’re not going to like what happens if you do.”

He turns to stride toward the door, leaving Holden’s belly writhing with fresh, exhilarated heat. 

“Is that a threat?” Holden asks, his voice echoing against the hollow, basement walls.

Bill cuts a stern glance over his shoulder at Holden. “No, it’s a promise. 

He yanks the door open, and marches out into the hallway. The door slams shut again, the sound echoing over the receding sound of his footfalls. 

Holden stands over his desk in the ensuing silence, his mind running wild with possibilities. He’s half-hard beneath his trousers, his groin giving shallow, aching throbs at the very thought of Bill laying hands on him again and what that promise could possibly entail.

He throws on his jacket, and exits the BSU office in a hurry, eager to get home and relieve the longing pressure. 

~

A few days later, Carver calls them back to Sacramento when the second victim is murdered, and they secure their first real victory with their new method of profiling. The next conversation with Ed goes well, even better now since Holden purchased a tape recorder for the interviews. By the time he and Bill are standing outside of the roadside diner sharing burgers and beers, he’s swallowed up by a sense of euphoric satisfaction. The only dark cloud on an otherwise sunny day is Bill’s staunch decision that what they’d had together was nothing more than a solitary fling, never meant to be repeated. 

Holden studies his face in the long shadows and flashes of passing streetlamps as Bill drives them to the airport, trying to read the minute flicker of tension in his mouth and brow. Bill smokes absently, his mouth curling in languid drags around the cigarette before his fingers pull it to the open window to flick ashes out into the night.

Holden has always found the steady repetition fascinating. He’s never smoked and has no interest in picking up the habit, but there’s something densely sexual about it on Bill - as if he needs the nicotine to smother something more fierce than flame, all his anger and repressed frustrations, all his aching wrestling with needs he can’t contain. The conflict runs deep below his outward appearance of rugged masculinity, a facade that is now well and truly fractured in Holden’s eyes. 

They’d spent most of their trip to Sacramento working and interviewing Ed, but the few moments when they were alone in the hotel room were ripe with tension. Quietly shared glances communicated an unquelled longing, a violent hunger unraveling between them dangerously like razor wire. Holden had thought a few times of trying to initiate sex again, but his brazen confidence is spent under the realization that he’d played every card he had the first time around; and despite his previous uncertainty of Bill’s reactions, he now knows Bill could hurt him if he really wanted to. This is no game, so why does that idea make him shudder with deeper, darker arousal? 

Cutting a glance toward the shadowy outlines of the landscape beyond the car, Holden tucks his teeth against his lower lip. He spends the rest of the drive trying to wrangle his longing and suppress the heat coiling low in his belly. 

When they reach the airport, Bill steers the car into the rental garage. He parks and shuts the engine off, but doesn’t move. 

Silence settles like a netting landing over them and drawing them together in the shadows. 

Holden casts a glance through the shadows at Bill’s profile, his hesitation dropping away as the final few minutes of their time in Sacramento unfold. 

_ This is it.  _ He thinks.  _ If we go back home without touching, I may never get the chance again ... _

Bill takes another drag of his cigarette, and ashes it out the cracked window. A stream of smoke pours out of his nostrils, as if his chest is afire. 

Holden quickly checks his watch. Their flight isn’t for another half hour. When he looks back up, Bill is staring at him from across the car, his eyes glinting in the low light. The orange glow of his cigarette brightens, casting his conflicted expression in flame for half a second before he deposits the last of the smoke out the window. Unlatching his seatbelt, he braces his fisted hands against his thighs. 

“Holden … ” He begins, his voice strained with a low groan. 

Holden hesitates only a second longer before ripping off his seatbelt, and leaning across the middle console to catch Bill’s mouth in his own. Their lips collide sloppily in the darkness, teeth knocking, and lips groping slickly before settling against one another in a long, hard stamp of need. 

Bill clutches at Holden’s cheeks with both hands, drawing him harder into the kiss, so hard that Holden feels his lower lip stinging with the force of it. He opens his mouth with a raspy gasp, and Bill’s tongue slips inside, flooding his mouth with foreign heat and saliva. Moaning softly, Holden curls his own tongue forward, feels the slick graze of Bill’s wriggling against it and then the clamp of his lips closing hungrily on the offering. 

Holden draws back, gasping as his tongue and lower lip drag free of Bill’s voracious kiss. 

In the darkness, their breaths gust back and forth. Holden can barely glimpse the needy glint of Bill’s eyes from among the shadows, but he can sense it in the shudder of his hands. 

“I …” Holden chokes before beginning again, “I want to know what you taste like.”

Bill’s breath catches before dwindling to a tortured groan. “Fuck. Holden, this is-”

“Please.” Holden whispers, reaching down a tentative hand to touch Bill’s inner thigh. “I think you want to know what my mouth feels like, too.”

“No, I …”

Bill’s quiet protest dwindles as Holden’s hand pushes up the inside of his thigh, working his legs apart until he’s rubbing up against the hard bulge of his cock throbbing towards full erection. 

“Jesus, fuck.” Bill whispers, his head tilting back against the headrest. 

Holden rubs the heel of his hand into the hardening flesh, and bites his lower lip over a pleased groan as Bill’s hips urge up against the pressure. 

Bill’s hands are shaking as he reaches down to unbutton his trousers. Holden pulls his hand back so that Bill can get the zipper down and the trousers out of the way. He slips his fingers past the folds of his boxers to ply his erection from within, dragging it free with a muted grunt. 

“Come on.” He says, cutting Holden an impatient glare. “You better make this quick.”

Holden trembles as he slides off of his seat, and leans over the console into Bill’s lap. His fingers find the shaft of Bill’s cock in the shadows, and curl eagerly around the pulsing flesh. A quiet gasp rises in the back of his throat as his grip measures it’s thickness, the way it throbs with an engorged pulse like some kind of possessed beast. The thought that this massive thing had gone into him only encourages the scorching heat wrapping itself around his groin. 

Bill’s fingers delve into his hair, and forcefully yank his mouth forward. Holden barely manages to lick his lips before Bill’s cock plunges into his mouth, thrusting toward the back of his tongue with unbridled need. 

Holden moans and nearly gags. He pulls back to the tip, panting hard through his nostrils. He’s slobbering from choking and his eyes are stinging, but the rush in his blood is too powerful for either of those things to dampen his arousal. He sucks back down again, lathering Bill’s cock in his gushing saliva and clamping his lips tightly around it. 

Bill groans, clutching at the grip on the car door with a white-knuckled fist. His hips lurch up against the pressure of Holden’s mouth, suppressed need of the last several days finally exploding free. He uses his other hand to grip Holden’s hair and guide his head up and down, ensuring the pace stays quick and even. 

Holden tries desperately to keep up, but he’s half-dizzy from barely breathing and choking helplessly on every other thrust. He lets Bill’s grip take control of the speed and rhythm, and clings onto Bill’s thighs while the need intensifies to an overflowing boil. 

Bill comes with a stammered grunt, his hand slapping against the steamed window when his body seizes in the first throes of orgasm. He clutches Holden’s hair so hard that Holden can feel strands pulling out by the root, but the slight pain only makes the rush of this risky encounter rocket into the stratosphere. 

Cum explodes hot and salty across Holden’s tongue, three pronounced, abundant bursts before it tapers off into weak spurts of finished release. Bill forces his mouth up and down his cock until the spasms fade entirely, causing Holden to swallow some of the cum while the rest rolls hotly across his tongue and into the pockets of his cheeks. 

As the grip on his hair eases, Holden sits up slowly with his head spinning. Dazed, he crawls shakily up onto the car seat, and fumbles for the door handle. The door comes open after a few failed pulls on the handle, and he leans over to spit onto the asphalt just outside the car. The cool night air outside of the car soothes his flushed cheeks as he takes the moment to catch his breath. 

When he sits back up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Bill has already zipped his pants up again. 

“Come on, we’re gonna miss our flight.” He says, nodding toward the airport. 

Still reeling, Holden watches mutely as Bill climbs out of the car, and circles to the trunk to retrieve their luggage. It takes him a moment for the full impact of the encounter to settle, but when it does, he scrambles out of the car to where Bill is slamming the trunk shut. 

“Wait-” Holden pants, catching onto Bill’s forearm as Bill turns to walk away. 

“What?” Bill asks, turning to cut a glare down at him. “You expect me to return the favor?”

“No.” Holden says, softly, casting Bill a demure gaze. “But you said if I ever had to make you repeat it, I wouldn’t like what you would do to me.”

Bill’s nostrils flare. A flash of something harsh and repressed and longing strikes inside the pale blue of his eyes. 

“So …” Holden whispers, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing here. We’re about to miss our flight.”

“Okay. When we get home, then.”

Bill’s jaw clenches. “What do you think I should do?”

Holden’s heartbeat kicks up a notch, and a giddy, nervous flutter envelops his belly. He swallows hard, trying not to shudder as he thinks of that moment in the Sacramento hotel room when Bill had slapped him for not staying still. 

“I don’t know … Punish me?”

Bill pulls his arm out of Holden’s grasp, and takes a step backwards. They stare at each other in the dim shadows of the parking garage as the thought swells like an air balloon, taking flight, both of them losing gravity and the sight of stable ground below. 

Bill doesn’t ask how he expects the punishment to come. Holden has a feeling both of them already know. 

“Let’s go.” Bill says, jabbing his chin towards the airport. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Holden trails behind him, his knees weak and his belly churning with need. His mind is already conjuring scenarios, lost in a haze of submission, pain, and arousal.  _ Later  _ can’t come soon enough. 

~

They don’t talk about it for another two days. 

Underneath their routine conversations, Holden can sense the underlying tension, and the gravity of Bill’s gaze on him from across the room. What deviancies and filthy, criminal acts are being planned out behind the transparent, razor-sharp blue of his eyes Holden cannot fathom, but he has his own ideas about how their next encounter will go. 

Wendy Carr comes down from Boston to help them begin organizing the information from the interviews, providing a much needed buffer in the secluded bowels of the basement. If not for her, Holden wonders if he would have ended up sprawled on top of Bill’s desk, or kneeling on the cold, cement floor with Bill’s cock in his mouth. 

As it is, Wednesday night rolls around, and they’ve done nothing but converse tersely about work-related subjects while sharing knowing gazes. 

Holden has just finished eating supper when the telephone in his kitchen rings. He sets aside the book he’d been reading on the couch, and catches the phone on it’s fourth ring. 

“Hello?” 

“You’re home.” Bill says, relief stifled in his brisk tone. 

“Yes.”

“Alone?” 

Holden grips the phone tighter, and turns to brace his elbows against the counter as a wave of crippling need washes through him. “Yes.”

“Good.” 

There’s a beat of silence before Holden manages to find his voice down in the knotted depths of his chest. 

“Where’s Nancy?” 

“Bible study.”

Holden purses his mouth over a smile, unable to help the blasphemous amusement. “And you?” 

“Not that.” Bill says, “I’ve got a babysitter.”

The suggestion rings loud and clear across the line. Holden draws in a staggered breath. 

“I, um … I’ve been thinking about it.” He says, his voice soft and raspy in the silence of the kitchen. 

“Yeah?” 

“About what you said. What I think you should do.” Holden continues, his voice dwindling to an ashamed whisper. The thoughts have run so rampant in his head, but saying them aloud makes him flush so hard his cheeks are scorching. 

“And what do you think it is that I should do?” Bill asks, his voice a low rasp against the humming static of the line. 

Holden presses his eyes shut, swallowing down his hesitation. “In Sacramento, when you … when you slapped me on the ass. I, um … it felt good.”

“What says you’re supposed to enjoy it?” 

Holden’s eyes spring open. His hand is sweating around the receiver. 

“It's supposed to be punishment.” Bill says, “Corporal punishment.”

Holden bites his lower lip. Christ, when Bill says it in that voice no two words strung together have ever sounded more arousing. 

“You can … you could make it …” He whispers, his heart pounding.

“Hurt?” Bill finishes for him, his voice jagged around the single, powerful syllable. 

“Yes.” 

Silence fills in the spaces between the static for a long moment before Bill quietly clears his throat. “Last week you were begging me not to hurt you.”

“I know. I was scared. I’m not anymore.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to get into something you’re not ready for.” 

“ _ I am _ .” Holden says, more firmly, his face burning hot with arousal and shame. “What do you want me to do? Beg you for it?” 

“I guess you’ll find out when I get there.” 

Holden’s mouth slips open, but he can’t string together a logical response before the line clicks and the dial tone hums against his ear. He slowly reaches over to drop the receiver back into the cradle. 

He leans against the counter for a long moment, trying to process the conversation and line it up with reality. He’d spent the last few weeks fantasizing about this moment, dreaming of all the different ways in which it might unfold. Never once had he expected Bill to be so forthright about what he wants, what he’s willing to do. For all his observations and analyses, Holden might yet have underestimated him. 

When Holden tears himself away from his paralyzed spot against the kitchen counter, he spends the next twenty minutes pacing like a caged animal around the apartment. He keeps checking the street below for any sign of Bill’s car, growing more impatient with every minute that passes. His body leaps with hot waves of desire that crash through his belly as he goes over the conversation in his head, Bill’s voice flush with need, his promises steady and controlled. 

When at last Bill’s car pulls along the curb, Holden runs back into the kitchen to phone downstairs for the clerk to let Bill into the building. A few minutes later, the knock on his door makes his whole body seize with mild panic and exhilaration. 

Holden draws in a deep, steadying breath before pulling the door open. 

Bill stands on the other side wearing black trousers and a blue polo. His hands flex at his sides, working out nervous energy. As the door eases open, he lifts his gaze from the carpet to regard Holden with eyes brimming with need. 

Holden takes a step back, pulling the door open with him. 

“Come in.” He whispers. 

Bill steps across the threshold, and Holden’s chest thuds as his presence seems to fill up every corner of the room, bringing the walls closing in around them. Quietly, he realizes he’s never wanted anyone quite this much, and perhaps he’s losing his mind talking of punishment and pain. Maybe he was in over his head the second he let Ed Kemper talk him into thinking about anal sex. 

The door creaks shut and latches behind Bill, and they stand still for a moment staring at one another. Slowly, Bill’s gaze wanders away from Holden’s to scan the fixtures of the apartment. 

“Is this it?” He asks, nodding at the couch. 

Holden blinks, a reply sticking in his throat as Bill steps closer, his body heat invading Holden’s personal space. 

“Is what it?” 

Bill’s eyes narrow as he closes the space between them, his hands settling confidently on Holden’s hips. 

“Where I do it.” He says, his head cocking to one side. He watches the blush crawl up Holden’s cheek, then lifts one hand to stroke his thumb across it. “You don’t want me to do it in the bedroom, do you? You have to try to sleep there tonight.”

Holden’s mouth slips open. He feels like he can’t speak or think. He can only try to breathe and blush so hotly that he might explode into flame. 

Bill’s thumb traces the curve of his cheek before reaching the corner of his mouth. Holden’s eyelids flutter shut against the overwhelming sensation of Bill’s thumb dragging across his lower lip, sliding into his mouth, grazing his teeth, and slipping around the wriggling tip of his tongue. 

He chokes softly, and closes his mouth around Bill’s thumb, suckling desperately. 

Bill draws him closer, and bends to plant a hot, wet kiss below his earlobe. Holden tilts his head back, keeping his mouth around Bill’s thumb while the kiss travels lower, tasting the length of his throat. 

Bill bites softly at the spot where he’d left the hickey the last time. The livid bruise which had once been stained deep purple has faded to a yellow blemish, but the area is still tender. Holden shudders, offering up a moan as Bill’s teeth slide along the sensitive skin and reignite a fresh ache. 

Bill draws back, pulling his thumb free of Holden’s mouth. 

Holden pants quietly, and casts Bill an attentive gaze, waiting for instruction. 

Bill takes a step back, leaving Holden to waver on his own two, trembling feet. He crosses the room to the couch, and sits down on the edge of the cushion. As he takes off his watch, he casts Holden a firm gaze. 

“Get undressed.” He says. 

Holden nods, and reaches up to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers. 

Bill sets his watch and his ring on the coffee table, and braces his hands against his knees while he watches Holden strip out of his clothes. 

Holden drapes his shirt and his trousers over the back of the chair, and stands shivering in his briefs. 

“These too?” He asks, gesturing to his underwear. 

“You can leave those. For now.”

Holden draws in a trembling breath. His cock is fighting against the front of the briefs, and it must be painfully obvious to Bill how ridiculously aroused he is and how little control he has over this moment. 

“Do you have the Vaseline?” Bill asks. 

Holden nods, stiffly. 

“Where?” 

“In the bedroom.”

“Go get it.” 

Holden nods again, and breaks out of his paralyzed stance to hurry down the hallway to his bedroom. His veins are busy with racing blood and adrenaline as he pulls the jar out of its hidden spot in the sock drawer, and briskly carries it back out to the living room. 

He comes to a halt a few feet away from Bill, clutching the jar between both of his sweating palms. 

“Come here.” Bill says, lifting a hand to wave Holden closer. 

Holden shuffles across the carpet to him, feeling entirely like the disobedient child this little fantasy is molding him into. But he has no foundation in reality for how powerful Bill looks sitting there, waiting for Holden to bend over his knee. He had always been the good kid in school, never got sent to the principal's office, never got paddled for bad behavior. And his principal sure as hell hadn’t looked anything like Bill. The fact that he has no idea what to expect only adds a heavier layer of arousal to this already dangerous encounter. 

Bill catches him by the wrist, and tugs him down to his knees. In the dim light of the living room, his eyes are stormy gray, and his jaw is set in a controlled line that’s only slightly betrayed by the quiver of his mouth. 

Holden sets the Vaseline on the coffee table beside Bill’s watch, and turns to face Bill, his head tilted down. Coarse carpet digs into his bare knees as he inches forward between Bill’s thighs. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Bill asks, grasping Holden’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

Holden hesitantly meets Bill’s tempestuous gaze. “No. I’ve never done any of this.”

Bill nods, curious thoughts turning behind his eyes. He slips his fingers into Holden’s nape, drawing him gently forward. 

“Okay.” He murmurs. “If it gets to be too much, you can say stop.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Bill says, pushing Holden’s head down towards the cushions. 

Holden falls over Bill’s left thigh, and sinks down to the cushions with his elbows planted on either side of his head and his hands locked together above him. With his forehead pressed to the fabric of the couch, he can only find his way ahead by sensation, the coarse graze of Bill’s calloused palm cruising down his bare back.

The touch slows down until it's creeping across the waistband of Holden’s underwear, letting him simmer with need as the anticipation builds to a dull roar. Holden shifts against Bill’s knee, digging his toes into the carpet. His body hums, awaiting the moment when the caress goes from gentle to brutal. 

Bill fondles him through his underwear, and the groping only makes Holden’s cheeks burn hotter, until he’s stifling a moan into the couch cushion.

Bill squeezes his ass cheek for a moment before dragging his fingertips down the back of Holden’s thigh where the skin is bare and sensitive. Tingles rush up and down Holden’s spine, drawing everything tight and throbbing. He can hear the thud of his own heartbeat outmatched solely by the pulse in his groin. He wants to cry for Bill to do it already, but his throat is locked with mounting horror and excitement that this is actually happening - Bill has him over his knee, about to spank him as if he were a child, and he’s letting it happen. No, encouraging it, facilitating it. 

Holden’s frantic thoughts come to a sudden, bracing halt when Bill’s hand retreats from his thigh and pauses for the space of a second before coming down hard. 

Holden gasps and almost chokes on his own saliva as the sensation crashes across his senses. The slap echoes through his body, working its way all the way to his groin where he’s suddenly, unbearably aching. 

He has only a few seconds to grasp at his dignity before Bill’s hand comes down again. His palm is firm and rigid, meeting Holden’s ass with just enough force to make it sting. As Holden begins to writhe, he plants his other hand in the middle of his back to pin him down, and starts swatting in a steady, repetitive rhythm. 

Holden moans and flinches with every spanking, but despite the stinging pain spreading across his backside, he doesn’t want to escape or beg Bill to stop. His body is singing with a rush of dizzying satisfaction, a type of aroused high that he’s never experienced before. It’s as if the humiliation and mild pain of the act has unlocked something deep inside of him that had lain dormant up until this point, waiting in the dark to be freed; now that it’s rushing through his veins, he doesn’t want it to stop. 

Holden gasps breathlessly as Bill’s determined pace eases to a stop again. A mass of tingling pain burns across his backside, accompanying the sharp pulse between his thighs. He wiggles impatiently against Bill’s thigh as the same hand that had been striking him smooths gently across his stinging skin. 

The cotton of the underwear chafes against his backside as Bill massages him, and he chokes on a groan. 

“How’s that?” Bill murmurs, his voice low and raking across Holden’s nerves like hot needles. 

Holden draws in a steadying breath before he speaks. “Good.”

“Hurts?”

“A little.” Holden whispers, too overwhelmed to add that the mild, general stinging canvassing his backside is only encouraging the hot clutch of arousal between his thighs. 

Holden hears Bill draw in a ragged breath before he slips his fingertips under the waistband of the underwear. He drags his fingers back and forth just beneath the elastic, grazing the soft skin just underneath, and extending Holden’s longing towards desperation. 

Holden arches up from Bill’s thigh to show his compliance as the fabric slowly drags away from his waist and grazes his tingling skin. The underwear comes down just below his ass cheeks, leaving Holden’s rigid cock trapped in the front while his bare backside is subjected to Bill's grazing palm. 

Holden breathes hard through his nose, and pushes up on his toes as Bill fondles his naked ass cheek, awakening fresh, stinging tingles. Everything inside him wants to beg for more, but the burn of shame on his cheeks is already too hot to bear, the throb of his cock an unbroken feedback loop of humiliation and arousal. 

Bill’s left hand settles against the middle of his back to hold him down, giving Holden a scarce moment’s notice before the spanking starts up again. With a crack, his palm comes down against naked skin the same as it had in the Sacramento hotel, only this time the gesture is focused solely on inflicting punishment. 

As Holden cries into the sofa cushions in response to the flash of pain, he realizes that first, small taste of punishment had been nothing more than a haphazard slap by Bill to shock him into submission, barely a measure of his strength, and that Holden had been entirely unprepared for the real thing. 

Holden sucks in a trembling breath, still reeling with alarm when Bill’s hand comes down a second time. It lands squarely, firmly across one cheek, inciting a sharp shot of pain down through superficial layers of skin to incite a lingering hum. 

On the next strike, Holden gasps aloud, and twists instinctively away from the impending threat of another.

Bill’s palm pushes between his shoulder blades, forcefully pinning him down while his other hand cracks across Holden’s wriggling ass. Holden’s trembling fingers search for traction on the fabric of the couch cushions, attempting to ground himself as he feels himself losing command of his body, his reactions, the moans tumbling from his open mouth. 

Bill spanks him again, harder this time. The strike echoes on Holden’s skin, sinking in like a thousand tiny needles scattering across his backside, and sending him lurching helplessly against Bill’s thigh. He can’t stop himself from writhing desperately as the next three come in quick succession, layering over the deep, stinging heat beginning to radiate across his skin. 

Bill pauses just long enough to cross his free leg over the back of Holden’s bucking knees to pin down the frantic writhing. 

With the heel of Bill’s hand shoved between his shoulder blades, Holden can only flinch and whimper through the next row of spankings that come down in a swift, relentless rhythm. His mouth stretches open against the couch cushions, and saliva creeps from the corner of lips in between breathless gasps of dazed pain and pleasure. Every crack of Bill’s hand sends a flash of stinging pain through him that runs a plunging path straight down into his groin where he’s so hot and hard that it feels as if he could explode. Every panicked thought ends in a clench of horrified, humiliated pleasure when Bill’s hand comes down once more. Among them is the thought of begging for mercy, but some small, sick voice in the back of his mind is searching for the boundary - the line within himself that he can cross into unknown territory, into wild, exhilarating places he’s never been before. He wants to know how much he can handle; he wants to know what breaking feels like. 

The harsh, persistent strikes taper off suddenly, and Holden’s damp eyelids flutter open. His backside hums with raw, heated pain, and a living sting that pulses gently below the skin. He’s breathing in low, fragile gasps that contain a whimper. As he comes back down to reality, he realizes that he’s trembling not just from pain, but from the thrill of it. 

Bill’s hand is at once gentle against his burning skin, and Holden draws in a shuddering moan. 

“Fuck.” He whimpers, his back arching away from the caress. 

Bill pets the brutalized skin slowly, and Holden can feel his gaze tracking downward, admiring his work. 

Holden lifts his head, and cautiously peeks over his shoulder, wanting to see what Bill is seeing. He gives a choked gasp when he glimpses the raw blush staining both his ass cheeks, pinkly luminescent in the low light. 

Bill bends over to press a kiss to Holden’s bare shoulder. His breath seeps hotly against Holden’s skin as he whispers, “Tell me how it feels.”

Holden’s insides clench with a shiver of shame and need. He presses his eyes shut, feeling the burn in his cheeks match the one in his ass. 

“It, um … it hurts.” He whispers, his voice a choked rasp that barely recognizes. “It stings.”

“And?” 

Holden’s ears burn. He knows what Bill is looking for, and he knows the true answer. 

“It … It feels good.” He chokes out. 

Bill exhales slowly against his shoulder. He sounds relieved, Holden thinks. Relieved that Holden is enjoying this as much as he is. 

He follows the curve of Holden’s backside with his palm, and locates the waistband of the underwear still bunched around his thighs. 

As he tugs down them, Holden’s cock springs free of the front of them, and jars a moan from his throat. His cock throbs against the kiss of cool air, unrestrained by fabric. If he nudges his hips forward, he can gain a little friction against Bill’s thigh, a scarce touch that feels as divine as it is torturous. 

Bill tosses the underwear aside, and grasps Holden’s inner thighs to open his legs. 

Holden bites into his lower lip to suffocate an aroused moan as Bill pets coarsely up the inside of his thigh. He briefly fondles Holden’s balls before rubbing the length of his index finger into the cleft. 

“Oh god-” Holden breathes out, his whole body seizing with pleasure at the slight touch. 

Bill leans forward to retrieve the Vaseline from the coffee table, and his heart begins to thud even harder. His cock twitches between his thighs, enamored of the thought of pleasure colliding with lingering pain. 

The lid scrapes open. Holden’s straining ears pick up the slick plunge of Bill’s fingers dipping into the ointment. 

He presses his eyes shut, and digs his toes into the carpet to arch his hips up in eager, submissive offering. For a few tenuous seconds, his anticipation swells too massive for his chest, the held breath in his lungs squeezing until he’s dizzy and panting. Then, Bill touches him, slowly, deliberately, and he’s gasping in raspy breaths, groaning uncontrollably.

Slick lubricant smears across his hole, lathering him up generously before Bill’s finger slips inside. The penetration is soft and lazy, pumping in shallow thrusts that only serve to wind up the panicked need spiraling through Holden’s belly more tightly. 

Holden buries a moan in the couch cushions, and tries desperately not to writhe. Pleasure shoots through every inch of him as Bill’s finger offers inadequate friction, toying with him rather than searching for the burrowed, sensitive place that could trigger orgasm. 

His mindless writhing comes to a halt when Bill’s hand slips away entirely, leaving him aching and longing to be filled. 

“Please …” Holden moans, breathlessly. He’s not sure if begging will work, but he’s willing to try. At this point, he’s willing to do almost anything. 

Bill’s left hand follows the shivering curve of his spine before his fingers work past Holden’s tailbone and down into the slick cleft. Holden goes still as two fingers slide into him, going deep and hard, hooking within him and drawing his hips upward into a deliberate arch. The fingertips of his other hand graze the backs of Holden’s thighs, his balls, and his still stinging cheeks. 

Holden’s heart picks up its pace again as fresh realization floods his mind.  _ It isn’t over.  _

There’s a second’s pause just before the thought clashes with reality, with Bill’s palm cracking viciously across his backside. The sharp stinging that had just begun to subside reawakens with force, sending a bolt of pain scattering from the center of his body and outward. Holden’s first instinct is to twist away, but Bill’s fingers are lodged inside him and he can do little more than give a helpless, tiny squirm before their forceful thrust drives him into submission. 

Holden’s moan sharpens into another cry when Bill’s hand comes down again. He stiffens against Bill’s thigh in an attempt to escape the crack of his palm and the fingers hooked into him, but Bill grasps him by the thigh to wrench his legs open again. 

“Stay still.” Bill says, giving Holden’s inner thigh a slap. 

Holden gasps softly, and offers a weak nod. Despite his compliance, his overwrought body as other ideas as Bill pumps his fingers in and out of his quaking hole. 

“Oh, Jesus … fuck.” Holden moans, writhing through shudders of need. 

Bill clutches one ass cheek to hold him open as the pace deepens, fingers fucking into him harder and faster. 

Holden whines low in his throat, and tears at the cushions, his whole body longing desperately for orgasm to relieve him of the unbearable pulse throbbing hotly between his legs. 

“God, please.” He moans, hoping his pleading will convince Bill to have mercy. “Please … oh, please.”

But the deliberate thrusting goes deep and stays there, pinning his hips in place for another series of quick, harsh spankings. 

The crack of skin on skin and the resulting flash of stinging pain ricochets through Holden’s body like fire, lashing against his aching cock and the weaving, delirious track of his thoughts. He’s too aroused to fight, too dizzy with a haze of pain and need to string together a logical sentence. All he can do is moan and cling tepidly to the cushions as Bill’s hand repeats that devious, fiery ache across his ass, seemingly reaching for infinity - and if not that, then the small hours of the night, until Holden is small and crying, the last of the fight taken out of his body. 

The spanking cuts off abruptly, and Holden’s moist eyelids wander open. He realizes he’s lying limply against Bill’s thigh, and he’s already broken, so much faster than he’d expected. 

Bill fingers slip out of him, but his body hums with the aftershocks of penetration and pain, every throb of arousal like a burning whip across his groin, too much to bear. 

Bill pulls Holden up from his lap, and Holden sinks to his knees between his thighs, panting and whispering, “Please, please-”

Bill kisses him, smothering the delirious plea. Holden clutches at his chest with trembling hands, latching onto the sign of affection, of mercy. His mouth slips open, and Bill’s tongue invades his mouth, slick, hot, and determined. Holden doesn’t try to assert any agency over the kiss, but simply opens his mouth and lets Bill ravish him until he’s breathless. 

Bill draws back, both hands cradling Holden’s flushed cheeks. 

“Still think you’re ready for this?” He asks, his mouth tipping devilishly. 

Holden breathes in staggered gasps as he tries to reorder his thoughts to read the glint in Bill’s eyes. God, he’s fucking enjoying this - more than Holden had ever expected. 

Holden gulps, and nods not willing to give Bill the satisfaction of being right. “Yes.”

Bill leans back, and unzips the front of his pants. 

Holden wavers on his knees as he watches Bill strip his trousers and his boxers down to his ankles. When Bill kicks them away, Holden obediently leans forward, entirely prepared to suck Bill to orgasm before he’s allowed to have his own. 

“Uh-uh.” Bill says, shaking his head. 

Holden gulps, sinking back on his heels. 

“Get up here.” Bill says, hooking his finger at him. “On my lap.”

Holden trembles as he climbs to his feet, and straddles Bill’s thighs. He grasps Bill’s chest for support, leaning close as he settles down on Bill’s lap. Their cocks are nestled hotly against one another as Bill palms one burning ass cheek to drag him closer. He reaches over to grab the Vaseline, and nods for Holden to get some on his fingers. 

Holden dips his fingers into the ointment, and gathers a generous amount. 

“On me.” Bill mutters. 

Swallowing hard, Holden reaches down to smear the Vaseline over Bill’s cock. His breath catches in the back of his throat, and his pulse accelerates as his palm slides slickly up and down the thick shaft. 

It’s the first time he’s truly gotten a good look at it. He’d spent most of the hotel encounter face down in the sheets, and during the blowjob in the parking garage it had been too dark for him to see much of anything. Now that it’s in his hands, about to go into his ass again, he’s even more turned on by the length and thickness, the way it's all hard and pulsing just for him. 

Bill sighs through his nose, and clenches his teeth against a quiet groan as Holden’s hand oils the length of him in slow, deliberate pulls. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” He whispers, hoarsely, grabbing Holden’s wrist to force his hand away. 

Clutching Holden’s hip, he pulls him up and forward so that he can guide the tip of his cock to Holden’s opening. 

Holden leans into his chest as the blunt head rubs up against his hole, sliding a few times before finding its way inside. He curls down against Bill, uttering a breathless gasp at the dull, achy feeling of the head going in. 

“Oh, god …” Holden whispers, gingerly sinking down to take more of it. “Bill-”

Bill’s hands frame his hips, and guide him back down a bit faster. His cock slips deeper, and from this angle, with Holden’s weight bearing him down against it, it feels even bigger and deeper than last time. 

Holden whines, clutching at Bill’s chest as the slow, steady penetration stretches on. His cock pulses with a desperate throb between them, rising up hungrily to meet his belly. He can feel Bill’s cock taking up all the right spaces, rubbing along that swollen, sensitive spot deep inside him, teasing him with the idea of pleasure right at the outset. 

Bill’s broad hands settle across his raw ass cheeks, and clamp down to stretch him open. With another slight thrust, Holden sinks down completely on Bill’s cock, and feels their bodies meet. He gasps aloud, his eyes cracking open to glimpse Bill staring up at him with a slack expression of immense pleasure on his face. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” He murmurs, sinking lower into the couch cushions as Holden writhes, impaled on his cock. He urges at Holden’s backside with a coarse grip. “Keep going.”

Bracing his hands on Bill’s chest, Holden rocks gingerly against the intense pressure of Bill’s cock buried within him. An immediate ache and flinch of pleasure rushes through him when he moves, urging a whimper from the back of his throat. 

“Good.” Bill murmurs, stroking Holden’s hip. “Just like that.” 

Holden bites his lower lip, and thrusts down against him. They both groan in pleasure as he rocks timidly a few times before finding a rhythm that’s slow, but steady and deep. His eyes slip shut over the rift of arousal that cuts through him, triggered by Bill’s cock grinding deep inside of him, finding places of pleasure he hadn’t known existed until this very moment. 

“Ohh …” He moans, slipping his eyes open to meet Bill’s hungry gaze. “Bill … feels so good.”

Bill’s teeth prick at a tense, pleased smile. His gaze clings attentively to Holden’s slack-jawed expression of pleasure for a moment before sinking down to watch his hard, pink cock bounce between them. 

Holden leans back, and arches his spine as he grinds down against Bill, thrusting his hips forward to display his cock leaking with needy pre-cum. Every jolt of Bill’s cock going into him sends a clench of arousal through his body, rubbing him raw, urging him closer and closer towards that climax that’s been hovering torturously between his thighs since Bill arrived. 

Bill hangs onto his hips, but he lets Holden set the pace, slipping into just the right angle and speed to massage the spot inside him that’s swollen and screaming with sensitive arousal. Holden’s eyes squeeze shut, blocking out all else but the need rising from a dull ache to a gripping throb. The world seems to go flat and blank with pleasure, Bill’s grunts and groans of satisfaction fading out beyond the dull roar in the back of Holden’s mind. 

A thrill of disbelief and amazement rushes through Holden’s mind just before it hits him.  _ God, he’s about to come just like this, bouncing on Bill’s cock, not a single finger on his cock.  _ He may not have believed it was possible a few weeks ago - fuck, yesterday even - but it hits him hard, like a tide that sweeps his feet out from under him, and knocks him out of his deliberate, thrusting rhythm. 

His body bows forward with the first, violent spasm, and he clutches with both hands at Bill’s chest. A gasp tears from his throat as he starts to come, his cock spurting release freely across the front of Bill’s shirt. 

“Oh, fuck.” Bill moans, grabbing at his jetting cock. 

Holden curls forward in immense pleasure as the coarse touch of Bill’s hand exacerbates the thrilling spasms of pleasure surging through him. The tingling waves wash over him again and again, pulled free and milked dry by the firm caress that works him over until he’s limp and sinking down against Bill’s chest. 

Bill’s cock is still lodged within him, and Holden can feel it twitching as Bill curls an arm around his waist to draw him close. 

“Fuck, that was beautiful.” He whispers, raspily in Holden’s ear. 

Holden whimpers in response. His whole body is humming and drained with pleasure, more satisfied than it's ever been. He hadn’t thought he could come harder than he did in that Sacramento hotel, but that encounter had been nothing more than a primer for something much more intense and satisfactory. 

“Come on, sit up.” Bill mutters, urging at his hips. “You’re not done.”

Holden pushes off of Bill’s chest, and leans back, bashfully meeting Bill’s gaze. 

“Go on.” Bill says, “Fuck me.”

Holden’s mouth slips open, a fresh wave of heat crawling up his throat. As he begins to move again, wrangling his spent limbs into action, the order repeats in neon across the back of his mind; he’s going to be seeing Bill’s mouth saying those words in his wet dreams. 

Holden whimpers as he finds the rhythm of his thrusts again, and the deliberate contact jars his sensitized body down to his bones. He clutches Bill’s chest for support, and clenches his eyes shut in concentration. His muscles burn as he picks up speed, eager to work Bill over the edge with him. 

Bill’s grip on his waist tightens, and a groan rides the back of his throat. Urging Holden’s hips into a faster rhythm, he thrusts up to meet every slap of Holden’s body bearing down against him. 

A low choked cry brings Holden’s eyes open, and he sees Bill’s head tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut, the white of his teeth gleaming in the low light as his lips pull back in a vicious growl of pleasure. His hips jolt up against Holden’s, and for the second time - not that he could ever forget the first - he feels the slick gush of heat exploding inside of him. 

Holden gasps, his thrusts losing traction and lapsing into nothing as Bill thrusts up against him, pumping him full of cum. The release eases any lingering friction, until they’re grinding wetly against one another in the aftermath, the air smelling of sweat and cum and bliss. 

Sinking down against Bill’s chest, Holden buries his face in his shoulder, and tries to catch his breath. He still can’t quite believe everything that’s happened since Bill walked through the door, but he knows for certain that he’s never felt this satisfied. 

Bill holds him until he catches his own breath. Nudging Holden in the side, he urges for him to move. 

Holden shakily climbs off of him, and rises to his feet to avoid getting any dripping release on the couch. He can feel it leaking from within him, rolling in slick, milky lines down his thighs. 

Their gazes collide hesitantly before Holden turns and rushes down the hall to the bathroom. He doesn’t know what to say or how to face Bill now that he spent the first half hour of their second hook-up splayed over Bill’s knee. It’s too humiliating to think about, let alone consider having to work together with that knowledge between them. And he started it - he started all of this. 

Holden climbs into the shower, and turns the water on hot. He stands shivering up the spray for a long minute before Bill tugs the shower curtain back a few inches. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Holden turns to peer at him through the misty spray of the water. He doesn’t know what else to do so he nods. 

Bill steps inside, and edges to Holden’s side below the steady spray of the water. 

Holden hands him a washcloth, and offers the bottle of soap. Bill accepts both wordlessly, and they bathe together in silence except for the drum of the water. 

When they’re done, Holden climbs out of the shower, and digs out an extra towel from the cabinet. He drapes his own towel around his shoulders, and clutches it to his chest as Bill pats his face and neck dry. 

“Have you done this before?” Holden whispers. 

Bill holds the towel against his chest, casting Holden a somber gaze. “What? Cheated on my wife, or fucked another man?” 

Holden swallows hard, his cheeks flushing. 

“Or the spanking part?” Bill adds, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“All of the above.”

There’s a beat of hesitation before Bill glances away. Holden can see his reflection in the mirror across from them, the way his brows pull together into a conflicted frown and his cheeks flush faintly with shame. 

“Yes.” He says, quietly. 

“All of it?” 

“Not with the same person twice.” Bill says, finally. “I hope you’re happy about that.”

“Should I be? I think I just burned everything to the ground.”

“Are you backing out?” Bill asks. 

“You don’t want me to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. If you don’t want it to happen again, it won’t. Fuck, it probably shouldn’t.” Bill says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“I thought you might say that.”

“Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” Bill asks, casting Holden a rueful smile. “Sunk cost fallacy, and all that.”

Holden draws the towel tighter around his shoulders, and draws in a shuddering breath. “You … you want to keep doing this?”

Bill wraps his towel around his waist, and closes the space between them in two strides. Holden backs up into the wall, his pulse spiking as Bill reaches him. 

“Don’t you?” Bill asks, his eyes clutching Holden’s with paralyzing intensity. 

Holden gives a slight nod. 

“Okay.” Bill says, “But, if we’re going to continue, then we need to get a few things straight.”

“What?”

“My wife. I married her for a reason. I love her.” Bill says, “We may not always get along, but I’m not going to leave her for you. Got it?”

Holden nods. 

“We’re not going to talk about her. And if you ever speak about her the way you did in California, you’re not going to like what happens next - I do not mean that in the same way as what we just did out there.” Bill says, waving a finger toward the living room. 

Holden nods again. “I understand.”

“Good. And this next one goes hand in hand: this is just sex. This is not some kind of romantic relationship. It’s a give and take. We both get what we want out of it, and walk away happy. Okay?”

“Okay.” Holden whispers. 

“The last one - and this is important.” Bill says, taking a step back. “If you come to me, there’s got to be clear boundaries of what you are and are not willing to do. I do not want to fucking hear about it after the fact that I hurt you in a way you didn’t want.”

“Yeah, of course.” Holden says, nodding quickly. “I can do that. I can communicate.” 

“Good.”

Bill’s eyes linger on him for a long moment before he dips his head. “I should get home.”

There’s a pause of silence, and Holden doesn’t know whether to agree with him or beg him to stay longer. He understands all of the rules Bill had very clearly laid out, but there’s some small part of him that’s longing for the entangled aftermath, Bill holding him until he falls asleep exhausted from pain and pleasure. 

Without awaiting a response, Bill pulls the door open, and strides out of the bathroom. Holden listens to his footfalls retreat, and shuffling of clothes as he gets dressed. In ten minutes, the door is slamming behind him, and he’s gone from the apartment. 

Holden drops the towel, and turns slowly to peer over his shoulder at the reflection of his backside in the mirror. Some of the redness has faded, but Bill’s hand had left little, purple marks where he’d struck the hardest, breaking blood vessels and leaving a lingering bruise. Just seeing it makes Holden’s blood pressure spike, and his heart race with the thought of them repeating this twisted little fantasy again in the near future. The hum of pain and pleasure has fizzled out, and he feels empty and raw like a junkie already searching for his next high. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!  
> 


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